


On the train

by Leaves_on_the_ground



Category: McLennon - Fandom, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 1960s, Attempt at Humor, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, McLennon, Scotland, Sex, on the train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 14:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14595423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leaves_on_the_ground/pseuds/Leaves_on_the_ground
Summary: The wheels clanged against the rails, rocking the train and two boys inside one of the compartments...





	On the train

The train jolted into motion. John’s swift reaction made his arm reached forward to prevent his companion from falling down the floor face-first who was making his way along the corridor in search of a free compartment.

“Watch it, Paul!”

“Ta, Johnny.” Paul turned his head back and beamed with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, go now.”

“Oh! The empty one. Come on in.”

“About time, mate.” John closed the door behind them as they walked in. He flopped into the sitting, facing Paul, who had already occupied a place next to the window.

Meanwhile, the train was increasing the speed and the wheels rotated faster.  

“So,” John started casually. “Got something particular you wanna see in Caledonia? Any requests?”

“Mmm, not really,” Paul shuddered and peeked through the window: the train had almost passed the station. “Nessie?”

“Didn’t know your grandma lived in Scotland, Macca. Anything else you’re hiding from me, eh?”

“I’ll show ye _‘grandma’_!” Paul chuckled, rising up a clenched fist while leaning forward with an attempt to grab John by the collar of the shirt and wave his fist right before his nose in a joking way. And John, who had anticipated the attack beforehand, moved forward as well, his lips within an inch of Paul’s fist... 

“Tickets!” The door had suddenly opened and a plump woman showed up inside their compartment. “Please, your tickets.”

John bent backward and crossed his hands, giving the woman an exaggerated sullen and malcontent look while Paul was wiping the invisible specks of dust off his shoulder.

“Hullo,” he greeted with a smile, noticing the woman. Then he plunged his hand inside the various pockets of his jacket and trousers, making it appear as he was searching for the non-existent tickets. “Just a minute, please.”

The conductor crossed her arms, waiting patiently. She’d been working in this job for more than 20 years and she knew the fare-dodgers by sight now. 

But John, who knew the drill as well, just waited for a right and reliable moment before starting his performance.

“Hi big la-dy,” he said in a childish voice.

“John!” Paul exclaimed with an open mouth as in horror, his hands cupping his cheeks, the expression on his face bearing a resemblance to a famous painting of Edvard Munch. “Please excuse us, ma’am. You see, he has this condition…”

“Oh… poor boy. Is he… mentally ill?” She asked the last part in a whisper.

“Well…” Paul suppressed a smile, “in our family we never _label_ him like that, you know. We prefer to think he’s just _not very intelligent_ , you see. But… yeah, I guess you can call him insane.”

John nodded vigorously. Then he started to drool.   

“Oh dear! Is he alright?”

“Well, he should be,” Paul knitted his brows. “You alright, Johnny-boy?”

“Johnny good,” he confirmed and stuck his finger into his ear.

“He is fine,” Paul concluded. “I’m his younger brother, by the way. I didn’t see him growing old ‘cause, you know, I hadn’t been born at that time yet but… I think he was born this way.”

“Oh, my poor baby!” the woman condoled and sat next to John to pet his hair. John slobbered even more. “God, that's such a shame! Such a shame… he’s so good-looking! This is just a pure tragedy.”

“Yeah, a tragedy. You can say that.” Paul grabbed his bag to rummage there as well, play-acting a state of confusion.  

“My brother’s unbalanced, too.” The woman carried on. “I can totally understand you.” She pressed John to her busty breasts and stroke his hair fiercely as she was trying to cure his intellectual capabilities just with a touch of her hand. And since she hadn’t been seeing John’s face, he caught the moment and grimaced at Paul, pulling a _‘you see that?’_ look. Paul lowered his eyelashes and stifled his smile.    

“It’s hard, you know,” he said after a while, giving away a little chuckle (but the woman had apparently taken it as a whimper of utter concern). “Having someone like him. Thank god he’s not completely _non compos mentis,_ you know, but he can be unstable quite often.”

“I see, sweetheart,” she smiled gently and let John go, and for a brief moment, Paul thought that he'd seen John frown. “I hate to say it but I haven’t seen yet your tickets, young men.”

“Oh, right!” Paul startled and sank his hands into the pockets again. And while he was pretending to seek the tickets that had never existed, John made his next improvised act, astonishing both Paul and the conductor.

He threw his hands up and clasped the woman in his arms, snuggling up close to her buxom body like he was a little baby koala.

Paul bit his finger, struggling too hard to quell his upcoming outburst of laughter. The woman, on the other hand, melted completely in John’s arms. 

“You look like mommy,” John drawled. “I love mommy.”

“Oh, sweet, sweet little darling!” She pinked and patted him fondly on his hands.

Paul, who finally gave up holding his laughter back, chuckled quietly and then quickly faked a concerned look.

“Er… Johnny?”

“Yes, Paulie?”

“Er, Johnny. Have you seen the tickets, dear? They’re very important tickets ‘cause we can’t ride on the train if we don’t have 'em.”

“Huh? The-the ones with numbers and… and green?”

“That’s right.”

“Oh… I played with them… But only a little! Is Paulie mad at Johnny?”

“Er, I…”

“That’s alright.” The woman cut in. “I can’t believe that such decent young men can be fare-dodgers!” She gently pushed John away and stood up.

“Oh… I don’t know what to say… I’m so sorry, ma’am. It’s entirely my fault to fail to look after Johnny.” Paul hung his head down.

“Ah, don’t say it.” She squeezed Paul’s hand for a second. “You’re a splendid brother, my dear.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Paul smiled, watching her head towards the door.

“God bless you both!” She added and left.

Finally, they were alone again. Paul relaxed and flopped back, rejoicing at their victory as they still were in the compartment and no one was going to stop and throw them off the train. It’d have been a pity but nothing new, really, as it'd happened once or twice before when a furious ticket inspector had pulled them by the hair off the bus (thankfully, not a train). Paul smirked at the memories that weren’t as hurtful as they had been the day when the said hard-edged conductor had caught them fare-dodging. Paul briefly glanced at John who seemed to be mind-reading him - and they both burst out laughing.

“You- you’re a-a head case! T-they must lock you in a padded cell!”

“They might,” John said after he’d calmed down. “But won’t you miss me then?” he smiled and then looked deeply into Paul’s eyes.

The train rattled hurriedly, speeding away from the city and into the fields with flocks of fuzzy sheep. Paul smiled and broke the eye contact to peek at the window: the houses began slowly decrease in amount as the countryside approached.

“It’s unbelievable,” Paul wiped off a tear that was a reminder of his recent hard-laughing. “I get turned on by a lad who drools and picks his ears while with me,” he shook his head disapprovingly but there was a vivid light in his eyes.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I’m irresistible, darling, you should admit it at last. You can get horny just by looking at me.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“As sure as eggs, luv. And I won’t lie to you that you’ve got the same effect on me, too.” John winked and promptly jumped to his feet, moving towards the door; he lurched as the train was rocking in a rush, moving forward.  

The lock clicked and he returned to his lover, flumping next to him.

“You know,” John whispered in Paul’s ear. “I might act like a loony, or a five-year-old -- _or both_ \-- in front of the people, but I’m totally _compos mentis_ and grown-up man in bed.” To emphasize his point, John grabbed Paul’s hand and placed it on his crotch.

Paul smirked and put it to a more modest spot: namely, on the knee.

“Let’s wait 'till we’re away from the big cities, Johnny.”

John didn’t answer, instead, he flicked Paul on the nose and moved archly his eyebrows. Then he took Paul’s hand and lifted it to his lips, giving it a tender kiss. Paul grinned, being extremely flatted by John’s full attention only and fully to himself.

As the train rattled slowly along, two boys were engaged in a lazy conversation, speaking about nothing in particular but at the same time discussing everything in the world: top-rated albums and new films that they’d watched or just about to, the best Liverpool’s café where bangers and mash are the tastiest, _those photos_ of Marilyn Monroe and Brigitte Bardot, the songs they should arrange…

“Oh, look!” John suddenly exclaimed. “Cows! Oh, and sheep!”

Paul looked out of the window, being a little surprised by John’s outburst of enthusiasm. He turned back to ask his lover why was he-

“Mm!” Paul hummed when John’s lips covered his own. At once, John took Paul in his arms, pulling his lover-boy to his chest and Paul - his lips opening immediately to a familiar feeling of John’s warm and soft mouth against his _and_ \- and he hugged him, too, snuggling up against John’s broader chest.

For a fleeting moment, Paul’s lips curved into a smile at the way they were holding each other — somehow clumsy and even ungainly as the train had been swaying them from side to side to the soothing sound of the rolling wheels. It felt odd — kissing and cuddling in a moving carriage — as the train jogged up, every now and then, making the noses of two lovers collide and therefore turning their kissing into a silly and childish smooching — as if they were kissing for the very first time.

“I think the cows won’t mind us,” John said breathy, his forehead against Paul’s. “Sheep, too.”

“Did you lock the door?” Paul asked quietly like somebody ( _or something: sheep, probably_ ) might have overheard them.

“Check it yourself,” John smiled gently. 

Paul did. And when he turned back, he saw his lover shifting to the seat in the middle and lifting the hand-rests up. 

“It’s locked.”

“Good,” John nodded. “Now…”

Paul simpered and came back to John and stood between his wide-opened thighs. Immediately, John’s hands squeezed Paul’s arse, making the latter almost lose his balance and fell atop of him which wasn’t bad at all but the clothes must be gone first; so Paul started to undo his lover’s shirt. Unwillingly, John let go of his lover’s pulpy bum and then he unzipped Paul’s fly before tugging the trousers down along with the briefs. He helped Paul to take all the needless clothes off, leaving only a white t-shirt.

John licked his lip in anticipation. His own shirt was now unbuttoned - yet still on his shoulders - while his trousers (and boxers, too) were pulled down to his knees. He jokingly raised one of his eyebrows and the next moment Paul was on top of him, straddling his legs around John’s hips.

John cursed at the thrilling sensation of Paul’s hot skin against his own and the unbridled desire of possessing him, his lover, _his Paul_ , clouded John’s mind. He quickly put off Paul’s shirt and threw it aside, lusting for Paul’s entire body without any restrictions in the face of some annoying garment. And thus Paul was totally naked, sitting on his lover’s lap in the rocking compartment.

In a heartbeat John’s lips found Paul’s chest, dabbing his skin with a trail of tiny kisses, feeling Paul trembling in his arms, his back arched and eyes closed as he was giving himself up completely to John, his passion and gentle caress. Paul giggled as John planted a kiss on his cheek, loving it too much to admit it to John – which in the end wasn’t necessary at all since John knew it already.

Paul heaved a sigh when he felt John’s hands cupping his buttocks. He smirked and wiggled his arse, leaning forward and spreading his thighs wider before drawing John in for a proper mouth-to-mouth kiss. 

Paul grasped impossibly close at John’s body, parting his lips with his tongue and sliding it in, his teeth brushing against John’s bottom lip while giving it an intangible nibble, slowly and leisurely involving John in a fervent kiss.

They kissed and kissed as the train moved forward, swinging to and fro, Paul’s fingers mussing up John’s hair, John’s hands clasped around Paul’s nape, and the thumbs stroking his cheekbones.

Reluctantly, John pulled away, needing a minute to catch his breath. God, if Paul wasn’t a good kisser… Sometimes he wondered if Paul felt the same way about him: Paul’s lips were plump and soft and cherry-sweet while John’s were thin and… _dry?_ And yet, Paul seemed to enjoy it -snogging John - as his eyes were big and bright with pure mischief. 

John winked and pecked Paul’s cheek once more _(just_ _because he could_ ) and then shoved two of his fingers inside his mouth, sucking at them with passion. Paul moaned approvingly at the sight and let himself enjoy the show, putting his arms around John’s shoulders for a better support.

John was definitely taking his time. He continued to suck on this fingers with a zealous performance, covering them plentifully with his saliva.

The train swayed forward, dandling Paul on John’s lap. The younger man gasped audibly at the feeling of John’s manhood rubbing against his arse creak – he wriggled his backside, emitting a low groan from his lover who immediately put his fingers out of his mouth.

Paul shuddered when he felt a wet fingertip grazing at his opening. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clutching at John’s shoulders tightly and slowly relaxing his lower body.

He moaned breathlessly when the first finger slid into his passage; not long the second finger entered him deeply and John started scissoring them inside Paul, stretching him nice and wide.    

“You alright?” John asked after a while, concerned, as Paul had been extremely stiff.

“Yeah,” he replied, not sounding very confident though, but managed to smile.   

John stilled all his movements and stroke Paul’s back with his other hand. They hadn’t had the lube in hand (John’s fault) so they needed to cope with their situation without it.

For a minute Paul hid his face in John’s neck where the skin was especially soft and warm. John giggled at the ticklish sensation of Paul’s irregular breath. His hand travelled up his lover’s spine and then buried in his hair, caressing the dark locks.

Paul sighed and cast a glance at the window. They were riding through the countryside now, the low hills and beauties of nature. One sheep bleated, long and loud, and Paul’s cheeks coloured up at the mental picture that suddenly emerged in his mind - a sharp awareness of what they - he and John - had been doing alone in the moving train. That is, him straddling his lover and the fingers inside his arse, stark-naked, flushed and aroused.

“They’re watching us!” he exclaimed coyly.

“What?” John squinted as he didn’t get it. Instead, he stared at Paul intently: his big dark eyes, and red cheeks, his dishevelled hair. _He'd never get used to how astonishingly beautiful his lover was_ , John thought amusingly. “Who?”

“Sheep!”

John laughed and squeezed Paul closer.

“Must be jealous then,” he said and pushed up.

Paul gasped. He’d been so disturbed over the sheep’s complete lack of decency ( _how dare they spying on them?_ ) that he’d never noticed John’s fingers leaving his body while being changed with something bigger ( _what possibly could that be?_ ).

Paul chuckled at his thoughts but the laugh quickly lessened as John penetrated him deeper. He closed his eyes and with a long sigh lowered himself fully in John’s lap.

The wheels clanged against the rails, rocking the train and two boys inside one of the compartments. The scenery outside the window had been changing rapidly from one lush view to another.

“Kiss me,” Paul breathed out and John complied hurriedly. They moved their lips ardently, vehemently, ravishing each other taste and warmth. Never breaking the kiss, Paul lifted himself up and then lowered down, feeling John’s hands holding him firmly but gently around his hips. Paul whined painfully at the prickling feeling deep inside him but soon the unpleasant sensation was gone and replaced by a state of intense pleasure.

And so Paul was raising himself up and John was pulling him back down on his shaft as they moved together in unison.

Before long Paul slowed the movements and set a new sensual pace. He was the one to break the kiss and to press his forehead against John’s, gazing keenly in his eyes which were gleaming with lust and adoration.  

And when Paul felt his midsection becoming hotter and tenser with every thrust, he gave in, eventually, and resumed the fast thrusting of his hips.

His cry, when he’d come, was muffed by John’s mouth, kissing Paul’s orgasm off his lips. He trembled as if in fever, feeling his lover shoving up once, twice and then shuddering as well as his own body.  

“I love you, Paul.” He whispered so no one could hear but them two, gripping at his lover and nuzzling into his neck. 

“I love you too,” Paul answered, a broad and happy smile on his face. His fingers flew back into John’s hair, entwining his locks. The train reeled backward and Paul whooped as John bounced up again into him unintendedly, surging Paul with a new faint longing. John’s hips hopped again and again, as the train rattled along, shaking back and forth, reminding boys that they still had been joined together. 

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the arms, John’s nose brushing Paul’s neck and Paul’s fingers stroking John’s locks, both inhaling deeply to restore normal breathing again. Finally, John stole another kiss and drew away before slipping out of his lover.

Their faces were red and flushed, hair tousled, and mouths big with smiles.

“I’ll remember you ‘ _non compos mentis’_ remark, don’t think you'll  _get off_ easy,” John wiggled his eyebrows and Paul smiled idly. “Let’s button your shirt up then, now shall we?”


End file.
